


aw, body, no

by verity



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bodyswap, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Makeover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:05:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2302526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verity/pseuds/verity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate has definitely considered what would happen if she ended up in a dude's body before, but it was, like, Noh-Varr, or maybe James Deen. Somebody whose ride you'd want to take for a test drive. Kate loves Clint, but let's be real: there's only one place she's going to carry this metaphor, and that's the car wash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	aw, body, no

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darthjamtart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthjamtart/gifts).



> darthjamtart titled this and I don't remember whose fault it was anymore. We were laughing and carrying pasta. Probably both of us are to blame.
> 
> Sam and his roommates are courtesy Meg's [sam deserves better than these assholes](http://archiveofourown.org/series/137124) 'verse. She is also a filthy enabler.

The only thing in the shower is a bar of soap, lumpy and gray. It smells a little like Irish Spring. "What the fuck," Kate says. She's afraid to touch it, but she's covered in monster goo and tentacle residue. The soap lathers okay, with a puff of weird man-scent, so she grits her teeth and gets to work. Soaps up Clint's arms, his chest, his hair—ugh, how is this real—and then everything else, which is temporarily _her_ everything else. Gross.

Kate has definitely considered what would happen if she ended up in a dude's body before, but it was, like, Noh-Varr, or maybe James Deen. Somebody whose ride you'd want to take for a test drive. Kate loves Clint, but let's be real: there's only one place she's going to carry this metaphor, and that's the car wash.

—

Buffalo Hot Wings narrows his eyes. _You're not Clint_ , he signs.

Kate has spent the last two days sending out Clint's laundry, getting his suit tailored, his hair cut, and his bathroom stocked with things other than soap and a rusting safety razor. She even replaced the batteries in his hearing aids. If Kate has to be stuck in this body until Tony Stark figures out how to swap them back, she's going to do it in style, okay. She beams at Hot Wings. "What tipped you off?"

"It's just Kate," Captain America says, stepping into view. "Kate Bishop."

Kate pouts. "'Just Kate?'"

"Whatever you're doing with your face, stop that, Jesus," says Hot Wings.

This isn't the first time Kate's filled in for Clint in the Avengers, but it's the first time she's filled in for Clint- _qua_ -Clint. Landlord Clint. Regular Bathing Clint. Drinking Buddy Clint. Clint claims that he has an iron liver, but three tequila sunrises in, Kate is doubting his claims. "How long do you guys usually stay here?" she says to Hot Wings. "Do you have to get home to, uh--babysit?"

Hot Wings has stuck to beer, but he's loosened up a little. "They can be left unsupervised, man. They're not little kids."

Kate has only seen video footage of the Winter Soldier—newsclips circa the punched-in-the-face-by-Soviet-Great-Lash phase, Steve's YouTube channel with all the hairdos. "How'd you end up with them as roommates, anyway?"

"I'm gonna need another round," says Hot Wings.

—

Crackpot Science Villain of the Week needs to think that Clint is fine and dandy, that his little experiment failed instead of going dramatically pear-shaped, so Kate is booked solid with Being Clint Barton for the immediate future. Clint himself is laying low. Kate texts him a lot, usually selfies with Lucky—she's gotten Clint the latest iPhone, and she's filling it with great pictures and awesome music—and important reminders, like, _I SCHEDULED A MASSAGE FOR YOU_ and _YOU BETTER BE WASHING MY ASSCRACK_. Kate's body is a temple and she wants it back in good condition.

Clint's body, on the other hand… it creaks a lot. He's broken basically every bone at least once and Kate can sense the weather forecast like an old lady or a psychic. It's pretty intense.

On day six of their swap, she cabs it into Manhattan and uptown, walks past the doorman in her building and right up to the elevator. Clint has a key to her place, just in case of emergency, and Kate lets herself into her apartment without knocking.

"Holy shit," Clint says, easing back out from under the coffee table a few moments later. It's covered in takeout containers, Diet Coke cans, and the tell-tale red foil scraps of Dove Milk Chocolate Minatures. "What's wrong?"

"You can't use the table for cover, it's _glass_ ," Kate says. "Also, you haven't texted me back in like three hours. Did you get my period?"

Clint looks at her with a wide-eyed expression Kate only sees on herself when she's trying to tightine her lashes in the mirror. "All of _Futurama_ is on Netflix."

"Yeah, I have no idea what that is," Kate says. "Give me the remote. I'm going to teach you about tampons and _iCarly_."

—

"Let's never do this again," Clint says when they finally switch back.

Kate flexes her fingers, stretches, wiggles her toes. Her body feels _nice_ , like pulling on yoga pants and an athletic tank in the morning and never actually going to the gym. "I don't know," she says. "I'd swap with Sam."

**Author's Note:**

> No, Kate. That's a terrible idea.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm [ladyofthelog](http://ladyofthelog.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


End file.
